


Bad Day

by UnknownSatellite84



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Bottom Rhys (Borderlands), Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Creepy!Rhys, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painplay, Personal Assistant Rhys (Borderlands), Punishment, Rimming, Somnophilia, Top Handsome Jack (Borderlands)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25621903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownSatellite84/pseuds/UnknownSatellite84
Summary: Rhys finds his boss passed out cold at work on a particularly shitty morning. Rhys has to deal with the fact his dick is out, too.He does not deal with it responsibly.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	Bad Day

Rhys was having a shitty day. Last night, he’d taken home too much paperwork to actually finish before bed. This morning, having his ice-cream-coffee-machine die on him just felt like the universe taking a piss in his hair - inconvenient, depressing, and terrible. 

He arrived for work fifteen minutes early to try and make up for getting behind (because that was something Jack would bitch about if he didn’t). Relief struck him as soon as he was in the office. He had a bit of fortune for a change. Jack slumped back in his chair, and as Rhys drew closer to the desk with Jack’s coffee order, he found the man dozed off in slumber. Just to be sure, a quick Echo Eye scan confirmed his heart rate and breathing matched that of someone sleeping.

Rhy sighed and sat the cooling coffee aside. Jack wouldn’t want it cold, and who knew when the man would awaken.

This wasn’t uncommon. Jack fought sleep with the same passion he fought bandits. He would stay up for days and days, sucking down caffeine in his vain attempt to fight his own mortal limits. Eventually, he would crash, and when he did, he crashed so hard Rhys wouldn’t be able to wake him with anything less than a bomb. One time, the Hub of Heriosm was put on lockdown for fourteen hours after Handsome Jack fell asleep in one of the cafes, and no one had dared to try moving or waking the man.

It was also an opportunity.

Rhys drew closer, observing the lines on the man’s face. Hair fell loose over his brow, soft in appearance. He never touched. He might somehow be found out if he did. But he _wanted_ to. So badly. Feel the surface of that fleshy mask. Was it smooth, textured, dimpled? A mystery that taunted him. If he could, he would follow the sharp angle of that cheekbone, maybe even unhook the clips and peek underneath. Fortunately, or possibly unfortunately, his self-preservation prevailed. He kept his hands to himself.

Jack had very nice lips, which seemed unfair.

Rhys let his eyes fall down the man’s body, from the curved neck, to the untidy layers, awed to be so close-

“OH!” he yelped. A furious flush spread through his face. He jerked away and pointedly looked out the window at Elpis. Of course Jack had been getting in some _funtime_ before he fell asleep. “Hooow is this happening,” he groaned, dragging both hands down his face, blunt nails scraping on skin, foot tapping. Checking that Jack hadn’t been awoken by his exclamation - he hadn’t - Rhys turned to walk away, as a respectful Personal Assistant should. 

What if... 

He stopped. There was a sickening feeling in his gut.

When Jack awoke, he was going to see his dick out, and _know_ that Rhys had seen. Rhys wouldn’t be able to hide it. Or worse, he might not remember that it was himself and not someone else’s fault his cock was out. He was a paranoid man at the best of times. Would this be enough for him to fire his PA out the airlock?

Rhys could _leave-leave_ , but Jack would be pissed his PA hadn’t shown when he was perfectly healthy… And that could lead to unpleasant consequences too. Maybe not death, but Jack could be brutal in other ways, like that time Rhys got stuck on rival-company greeting duty for a week after accidentally misplacing an important Echo. There was no winning.

Either way, he didn’t need this added worry.

Rhys let out a long noise of distress and turned back to Jack, wishing he hadn’t approached the desk. Then at least he could prove his innocence, that he hadn’t seen anything. 

“Whyyy meee?” 

Had he wanted to see Jack’s dick for a long time now? _Yes_ . Like this? _No_. 

Rhys took a few moments to try and think. He walked around the office, eyes wide, searching for something to help. There wasn’t much in Jack’s office but papers and Echo devices and computers. And the break counter. He rummaged in the drawers there, slamming each one in turn. At this point, his favorite comfort machine breaking down seemed quite minor. The universe really did have it out for him today.

He heard a noise and froze. He peered across the room, seeing Jack stir and shift, legs stretching a bit. His heart stopped until Jack stilled again, head tilted the other direction, chest still slow in its rises and falls. Rhys raked his fingers through his hair, fidgeting with his shirt.

Rhys was about to look up how to change your identity and start a new life when a corporation literally owned your soul, when he noticed a….reacher-grabber-thing, a few inches away from his hand on the countertop. He grabbed the thing and triumphantly marched to Jack. This time, his gaze went over the dick unchecked. It was definitely a winner, and Rhys was a connoisseur of these things. Rhys’s cheeks flooded with heat, and thick guilt weighted his chest. 

Why was he letting himself check it out? He knew better than this!

He sucked in a breath. 

_Just do it, Rhys._ Like when he hit send on completing that mining deal. _Just do it._

He pushed Jack’s pants down with one hand and used the grabber on Jack’s dick. Rhys winced at the plastic on flesh. The grabber would probably have caused some pain if Jack was awake. He hoped he stayed in that damned deep sleep of his.

A separate grip clamped onto his wrist. 

Rhys almost shrieked. He stifled the noise by shoving his other hand over his mouth, the one not holding the grabber. His heart thundered. He’d been caught! At the worst possible moment, too! How did he explain _this_ to his boss? _Just using this grabber on your dick, sir!_ He didn’t know why he’d bothered. Everything would be ten times more incriminating like this, and he considered if dropping to his knees, crying, and begging for his life would be enough to spare him from the airlock.... 

Rhys had screwed his eyes shut, but something was off. He wondered why Jack hadn’t said a word. He risked a glance at Jack’s angry face to...find it wasn’t angry at all, still limp, eyes shut in sleep. Jack’s hand was iron on his wrist, somehow, but when Rhys scanned, Jack’s vitals still read asleep. Rhys gulped. Great, so now he had to figure out how to free his hand. 

Jack mumbled, his lips twitching as if they wanted to grin, words semi-slurred, “whatyya doin’, babe….? Needin’ Jack...that badly, heh?”

Rhys scoffed inwardly. He whispered back, “you’re ridiculous. Lucky, you won’t know about any of this. Unlike me, who will have uh...nightmares, yep, nightmares, definitely, for the rest of my life.” Rhys loosened the grabber. Jack’s grip also loosened. Rhys carefully extracted his hand from Jack’s. The next time he gripped Jack’s dick with the grabber, he was more careful. Still, he wanted to yell in anger. It was unmistakably larger, heavier than before - of course Jack had to get a sleep boner at this exact moment, just to be more difficult.

Rhys sighed and gave a shove with the grabber, pushing the stupid (but perfect) dick down far enough where he could pull Jack’s pants over it. Abruptly, Jack made a noise in his sleep, like a moan. His head shifted again, chin dropping to his chest. “ _Rhyyys…_ ”

Rhys jumped back, certain he was caught this time. Jack still didn’t open his eyes, though, didn’t look at him. Another scan revealed the man _still_ asleep. So why had he said Rhys’s name?

Oh. 

Ohhh.

_Ooohhhhh._

Holy shit.

Jack was….dreaming about him? While he had a _boner_?

Rhys never thought he could be jealous of a dream version of himself, but he was right now. Still, Jack’s dream was about _him_ , not some random actress or model. Did that mean Jack...was at least a little into him? Rhys tried not to feel the warmth that bloomed through his whole body at that thought, but it couldn’t be stopped. He was very pleased with this revelation. Maybe today wasn’t all bad. 

Jack’s dick twitched. Rhys wanted…he _really, really, really_ wanted to know how it felt in the palm of his hand. It would be so easy to just cup his hand gently around it, map the lines and veins, memorize the curve. That was a ridiculous thought. But really….would it be so bad? He would never get an opportunity like this again.

Was it worth dying for, though? If Jack found out…

The chances of Jack finding out were slim. Jack really did sleep like the dead. 

Rhys rucked up Jack’s shirt, revealing some belly with dark body hair. He gently rubbed a hand over it, feeling its softness. He giggled in glee, memorizing this moment. He followed the happy trail back down, to where Jack’s cock was.

Jack’s hips moved.

Rhys’s anxiety spiked and he jerked his hand back. He eyed the limp face again, skin tingling, breath short. He realized his own pants were tighter. God...would he really? 

“Nope, nope, noooo. Bad Rhys!” He told himself. He turned away, and his hand dropped, squeezing his own dick through his pants. He swallowed a moan, heated breath leaving his lips. He ground against his hand, closing his eyes, melting into the pleasure. He quickened the pace. Jack was just there, a foot away. He could still get caught, and he still hadn’t accomplished the simple task of getting his boss’s dick back in his pants. What about his work he was behind on, and-

It wasn’t enough. Standing there, he felt weird, his mind was just wandering and worrying. He shouldn’t be doing this.

Fuck it all.

Rhys nervously glanced around the office, unsure of himself. He shook away all the dark desires, remembering the cameras, and worked to get Jack’s pants over the now-solid dick. Rhys’s hand brushed along the length, once. Just once. And really, he’d done it because it helped him position the jeans. Jack didn’t wear underwear! And it’d just been the side of his hand, so not even a real touch!

Still, it would be a lot easier if the dick was soft. Jack’s pants were tighter than Rhys had realized. God, this man was infuriating. Rhys tugged the material harshly, and it snapped down, constricting the boner - ouch, ouch, _ouch_. Rhys winced, his own dick shrinking in sympathy.

Jack’s breathing hitched. “Fuckin’- Pleaseee…”

How was he asleep at this point? A mystery for the ages.

If he helped it along, this would be better. Right now, Jack’s dick was half constricted, part of it exposed in spite of Rhys’s attempts. And Rhys was starting to worry about damaging his boss’s....dong, like this. And that would be worse if he tried to shove it the rest of the way in. Really, getting it soft would lessen Rhys’s likelihood of being caught and airlocked. So really, it was the best decision in saving his own life. It was logical. _Really_!

He wouldn’t enjoy it! This was weird! It was just something he had to do! Hyperion could be like that. Just unexpected work coming up. Not always pleasant, or tasteful, or what one might consider moral and respectful of everyone’s boundaries. But it paid his bills!

Rhys blinked. His hand was pumping Jack’s dick, the jeans no longer in the way. He realized he wasn’t sure at what point in his reasoning he’d started pleasuring his sleeping boss. He felt more heat in his face. Unable to stop himself, he pressed his own hard-on against the arm of the throne-like chair, giving a slow grind. His hand moved faster. Warm fluid coated his fingers. 

He looked down. Jack’s dick had swelled up, larger than before, hard, angry red, leaking white. This must be Jack’s true arousal. Rhys swallowed, knees shaking. Drool spilled from his open mouth. He squeaked with embarrassment and wiped it away, shutting his jaw. He would look like such a fool right now if anyone could see him.

He goggled at the precum on his fingers. He rubbed his thumb and pointer together, smearing it. Holy fuck. He really had _Handsome Jack’s_ precum on his hand. He ground harder against the chair as he raised his tainted hand to his lips and...tasted it. Salty and bitter. He missed this. It wasn’t like it was fine dining... Well, it...okay, it was...to _him_. He licked the rest up and played with it on his tongue. He pictured being on his knees before a demanding Jack. Eyes slitting, he swallowed. The heat across his body intensified. He felt shakey. 

Hey, this was quicker to clean up! 

Cautiously, he stumbled so his constrained cock was against Jack’s knee. And rolled his hips. Jack didn’t respond, but all of Rhys’s nerves did. A soft moan spilled from him. He did it again and again. He was feeling way too good. Why was he doing this? Did it matter?

He returned to Jack’s dick, working it with his hand. On the downstroke, he squeezed each of Jack’s balls, chewing his lip as he did so.

He realized Jack would know something was up if he had cum on his shirt. That cum could go to a better place, anyway. Like inside of him.

Rhys stepped away from Jack’s knee and fell onto his own two. He had to pause from nearly spilling his own load too early as he enacted this long-held fantasy. Once the danger passed, he steadied his hands on Jack’s thighs and slotted his shoulders between them, tongue finding Jack’s dick like it had a magnetic pull. He licked a heavy stripe up the velvety, veiny, tangy skin. He sucked the head into his mouth. It was warm, throbbing, and bitter. He closed his eyes and let out a pornographic moan, imagining Jack enjoying the vibration on his dick and the vulnerability of his PA. He swirled his tongue around the cock. He pressed his cheek out with it, drool spilling from his lips.

Rhys tongued Jack’s tip, going for the slit. He pulled off with a pop, clearing his throat of precum and spit. He lowered himself to the man’s balls, giving each one a light suckle and gentle scrape of his teeth. He then took them in his mouth, in turn, sucking generously. Rhys couldn’t get enough. 

Thank god Jack slept like he didn’t have anything in the world to wake for.

Rhys took the head back into his mouth, sucking up the fresh precum as if his life depended on it.

Rhys turned his eyes to gaze up at Jack. As bad as it would be for him right now, he wished Jack was awake. He wished one of those strong hands would claw at his hair, tangle in it and pull until Rhys’s eyes spilled tears. Or maybe he wished that hand would work it’s way around his throat and choke him. 

As Rhys sucked, his cyber hand pulled Jack’s leg forward, positioning it right between his thighs. He undid his own belt swiftly, slipping down his pants and underwear. His cock sprang free, and he sighed, feeling hazy and pleasant. He grinded against the leg, feeling his cock against the rough fabric of Jack’s jeans. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, but he was in heaven.

Jack moaned so loud in his ears, it was a wonder the man was still asleep. Rhys looked up at him through his lashes, imagining Jack’s face flooded with pleasure. He moved more lewdly, head bobbing, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked harder. His body squirmed, thrusting harder against Jack’s leg.

He must’ve imagined it, but he thought he saw a glimmer of Jack’s eyes through the slits of his eyelids. Thought he saw a quirk of that mouth. Thought Jack’s breathing was too fast now for sleep.

Rhys was so close, so close- he just needed...needed… He bucked his hips violently, enough it moved Jack’s _leg_ and-

_What the fuck, Rhys?_ The thought wormed into his mind. He slowed, the guilt blossoming hard in his chest. What was he _doing_?! He...He shouldn’t be doing this! He’d gotten so carried away from his original intentions... Rhys needed to finish this. He tried to tell himself he needed a more clinical approach. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t just fuck Jack’s leg while he did this. Relieving Jack’s cock was just helping along his wet dream. Rhys’s pleasure didn’t need to be so...involved, ideally not at all.

He shoved his softening (but unreleased) cock back into his own pants, locking his belt. 

Angry at his warring emotions, he thrust his mouth down Jack’s length. He took it down and swallowed. He gagged and yanked away, coughing on saliva and precum. His lungs ached and he gasped for air between coughs. He groaned, palming his forehead. Jesus. He was going to wake up Jack.

Fuck it all. 

When did he ever get anything he wanted, truly? Never. That’s when. He deserved to enjoy himself this time. He couldn’t just let this go. He would always regret it. He might regret it anyway, but at least there was a chance he wouldn't this way. He came this far, and still, Jack was asleep. He could do this.

He pressed back against Jack’s leg, resolve fading. He was back to full hardness. 

It didn’t take long. He came, forcefully. His breathing stopped and a strangled gasp left him. He spilled in his own pants, each wave satisfying in a way nothing else was. He whimpered and dropped his forehead against Jack's thigh, trying to ground himself and catch his breath. 

It faded gradually.

Once Rhys regained himself, he went back to Jack’s cock, this time more prepared when it slipped into his throat. He still gagged slightly but managed to keep himself in place and _not_ go into a coughing fit. He took Jack all the way, moaning in spite of having just finished. He thrusted evenly, his hands getting involved where his mouth wasn’t - along Jack’s thighs, around his balls, squeezing here and there. Even where Jack’s dick wasn’t occupied as Rhys moved.

Rhys was so caught up in this, he pictured Jack swearing in pleasure. 

Jack’s thick cum shot down his throat suddenly. Rhys forgot everything else and swallowed eagerly, taking each wave as it came. Jack’s body spasmed beneath him, his voice moaning above Rhys. Rhys melted into the glorious feeling it left him with. He felt powerful, unstoppable. 

Jack’s dick softened and shrunk. Rhys let it drop from his lips. He felt like he’d come down with a cold, throat raw. Rhys kept intermittently swallowing at the feeling, vaguely annoyed by this side effect of his fun. With careful hands, Rhys tucked Jack’s cock back into his pants - easily this time. He let himself drink in the sight of his boss one more time before he stood.

Rhys winced as his knees protested. He was also disgusted at his own soiled pants. He’d have to leave to change soon and hope Jack didn’t notice. He decided he wouldn’t linger on what he’d done. It was over with. Like that mining deal. He hadn’t been caught. He was safe. Now to go back to how things were before it happened. It was a little disappointing he couldn’t have it for real, but this was still more than he could ever have dreamt.

Rhys went back to his own desk to set his things there, planning to leave a note in case Jack awaken- 

“Rhys?”

Rhys jolted in his skin. He flung himself into his desk chair. Jack was awake _already_? Thank god he hadn't awakened any sooner. “Y-yeah?” he said, hoarse, feet scrambling as he scooted in his chair. He wiped his lips in case there were any, uh, fluids there. He cautioned a look at his boss. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes?” Better.

Jack was blinking his eyes, stretching his powerful frame, yawning. “What time is it?” he asked. His voice was weird, strained. He almost sounded angry, but that was odd, given how relaxed he looked. God, Jack also looked _powerful_. Rhys had played with fire.

Rhys shivered. “Oh uh...it’s nine, Jack.”

“I see.” Jack rubbed his face and stood. Rhys heard some popping as he rolled his shoulders. Jack noticed the forgotten, cooled cup of coffee and grabbed it. Rhys felt his heart sink. Shit. Jack narrowed his eyes at the drink. He marched over to Rhys’s desk. “How about you get me another one, ya know, since I’m up now?”

If Rhys stood up, Jack would see his pants and- “Oh! I uh,” Rhys fished for an excuse and looked at his desk. He grabbed the nearest folder. “...I just started on this, so I can call the secretary-”

“ _You_ ,” Jack said, intense.

Why? Why him? Rhys fidgeted. “But I....Jack, please, I’m a bit behind... Surely...” Rhys trailed off, staring at his boss helplessly. Jack seemed to loom, and it made every part of Rhys prickle. He crossed his arms in front of himself.

Jack tilted his head, as if considering. After agonizing moments, he finally said, “alright.”

Rhys sighed, relieved. He called the secretary and told them to do just that. He looked back up, realizing Jack hadn’t moved at all. “Was there...anything else?” Rhys asked, nervous beyond belief. He knew he wasn’t acting normal, but he couldn’t help it. There was danger here, and he didn’t understand what kind or how.

Jack’s large hand gripped one of the papers. His brow furrowed. Rhys recognized disapproval that made his gut sink. “This thing? You were supposed to finish last night.”

“I know- sir, sorry- I-”

“Sir?” Jack echoed.

“S-sorry,” Rhys said, he tugged on his own collar, starting to shake. His face was flushing, he could feel it. His gaze adverted. “I-I uh. I had a rough m-morning- I fell asleep late and- my-my stupid coffee machine died-”

“I’ll bet.” 

Rhys remembered this man hated excuses. Jack preferred more substantial offerings. “I-I did finish categorizing the department numbers!” Rhys squeaked.

Jack moved around the desk, and Rhys couldn’t fathom why he was doing this. He’d been behind on things before, and unless it was vitally important, Jack never cared enough to do more than quip about it. And. Shit. Was he this upset about Rhys being behind? Jack’s hand fell heavy on his shoulder. “I suppose that is _better than nothing_ ,” he growled in a very unfamiliar tone of voice. It was thick and sweet, but condescending and full of anger. He squeezed. “I _know_ you can do better, though. Rhysie. I didn’t hire you for you to slack off.”

_Am I going to die? From late work?_

That couldn’t be it.

Rhys went cold, breath catching. _Could he...could he know…? But if he did, wouldn’t he have reacted sooner? Did I forget and leave some evidence?_ “Of-of course not- Jack-.”

Jack’s other hand went up the back of Rhys’s neck, and Rhys shivered. His fingers tugged on Rhys's hair. This was so much more handsy than Jack was usually. Was this Jack’s murder ritual?

Jack’s voice abruptly lost some vitriol. “It’s alright, pumpkin. I know what it’s like.” 

“Y-you’re...not mad?”

“Nah.” The hand let go.

Rhys breathed, thinking he’d dodged a bulle-

Pain shot through his neck and shoulders, head pinned down against the desk. Rhys’s face was turned, so his cheek was against the desk. Jack’s hand was firm at the base of his skull. Rhys’s heart started racing, and he tensed, unsure of if he should struggle or not. When he remembered this was Handsome Jack, CEO of Hyperion, with thick arms and hands like built-in weapons, he knew the answer was no. Like he stood a chance against his homicidal boss in a physical altercation.

“Jack…” he said, his voice shaky. “What are you doing?” He gulped. He had no idea how to interpret any of this.

Jack hummed. “You know, princess, I had the…. _craziest dream_.”

Rhys whimpered before he could stop it. “Y-you did?” He shook harder, breathing picking up. A million scenarios of how this might play out were racing through his head. None of them were great. But at least some of them were non-lethal. He hoped it would be that.

Jack’s thumb dug into his flesh. “Yeah. You wanna hear it?”

He peered up at Jack, who was leering down at him. Did he know? “U-uh….sure? I-if you want-”

“I had a dream, that you, all pretty and sinful-like, were on your knees before me.”

Rhys’s eyes widened.

“You didn’t even ask permission. Just came into the room and started suckin’ my cock like you owned the place.” Rhys gasped as the hand gripped his hair, fingers scraping his scalp, tightening. Jack’s weight leaned over him, and Jack whispered in his ear. “And while you sucked my dick, swallowing it like prime rib, you humped my leg like a stupid, unspayed dog. Soiled yourself, just for me.” 

Rhys was once more acutely aware of the wet patch in his pants. Jack’s words slowly sank in… _Holy fuck_. Had Jack been awake at some point during that? Or did he just have a very accurate dream? 

Jack went on in that soft tone, “Best of all...it was _hot_. You were like a whole different person. Confident and shit.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you, princess? You’re not nearly ambitious or cocksure enough, are ya? You wouldn’t get near me without askin’ first. Hell, you’d rather piss yourself than ask big bad, Handsome Jack for his dick, huh?”

“I-I’d never…” Rhys cleared his throat, “Uh...be unprofessional...”

Jack laughed, tangling a hand in Rhys’s hair and tugging Rhys back, exposing his throat. His hand curved around Rhys’s neck. “You’re almost cute when you’re lying.” Jack’s lips brushed his jaw and Rhys’s brain short-circuited. “You really thought you’d get away with taking a bite out of Ole Jack?”

“I- I...sir,” Rhys whined, panting. Jack’s grip was so strong, and Rhys’s back arched. He was torn between the way the rough handling was getting to him, turning him on, and also how he needed to be worried that Jack was probably planning to strangle him. He didn’t even understand what Jack was _doing_. “P-please… I-I didn’t do anything-”

“Heh, so if I check the cameras, little Rhysie is gonna be innocent?” Jack crooned viciously. “Rhysie’s gonna walk through that door and go straight to his desk like a good boy? I’m checking that footage later either way, for the uh...details of what I missed, so you can either be honest, or lie to me. And you know I don’t like liars, Rhysie.” In spite of the threat, Jack sounded amused.

“I-” Rhys realized the game was up. He wasn’t going to be Jack’s PA for much longer. Jack was going to kill him. “Jack...Jack, I’m _sorry-_ ” he whined. “I-I didn’t mean- I don’t know what came over me- please-”

“I’m irresistible, aren’t I?”

“I...should’ve asked- I- I-” Jack’s grip loosened and Rhys slumped.

“Stop stuttering,” Jack growled, “it’s really ruining this for me. You better expect to make it up to me.”

Rhys nodded, turning towards Jack in his chair. “Of...of course, I can put in more hours, uh, work with no pay-”

Jack laughed. “Oh god, don’t be stupid, kitten. No- it’s-it’s not gonna be work. Ho damn, read my damned tone or somethin’, save me some brain cells. Now, take it off.”

“Take...what off?” Rhys asked, tongue dry.

“You’re clothes, dunderhead.”

It sank in, what was happening. “Oh.”

“Yeah. _Oh_. Show me the goods.”

Jack waited...presumably for Rhys to obey. Rhys took one glance at Jack’s bright eyes before he knew protesting was out of the option. Not that he was opposed to this, really. He’d always wanted Jack’s attention on his naked body. This was just...really weird, and he still wasn’t sure he was off the hook. He loosened his tie and tossed it away, unbuttoning his shirt with haste. He ridded himself of that, too. His shoes were next, his socks - which Jack scoffed at, hurtfully. Rhys hesitated on his pants, meeting Jack’s burning gaze. Jack was still looming over him, and his presence seemed huge. Rhys’s eyes traced his broad shoulders, down the thick arms, to the large hands that were folded with impatience.

Jack gestured. “Go on, no need to be shy, baby.”

Rhys was sort of surprised he didn’t make a comment about the...cum.

Rhys prayed for strength as he shoved his pants off. At least this was more interesting than work, his brain tried to help. He got more heat flooding his neck and face for that thought. He could no longer meet Jack’s eyes. He stared at the floor, completely naked.

“On the desk,” Jack growled.

Rhys’s stomach flipped, a thrill running through his body. He complied, clambering onto the desk - maybe too quickly. He didn’t know what to expect or what Jack was expecting, but his fear was somehow lessening with each passing second, replaced with a submissive feeling. He’d fantasized this sort of thing on many lonely nights. Had even acted it out in the privacy of his room. Already, this was way more intense.

“Now, Rhysie. Kneel, arms and knees.”

Rhys’s heart palpitated. He got into the position. Jack patted his thigh. “Good boy. Stay just like that. Well, I don’t really care what you do with your top half, but keep that tight ass up. Got it?”

“Yes, Jack,” Rhys breathed.

Jack’s hand stroked down the inside of his thigh, jolting Rhys with electricity. Rhys resisting leaning into the touch. It pulled away. And Jack left him, returning to his desk.

“Um...Jack?” Rhys asked.

“What?”

“What is...what am I doing here?”

The door opened and the secretary walked in. Their eyes widened significantly, and Rhys’s own dropped at the burning humiliation he felt. He flushed again, trying not to think.

“S-sir, Jack,” they stuttered.

“Give me that caffeine, idiot.”

The secretary presumably did that. 

“Dismissed.”

They fled with clicking footsteps, apparently smart enough not to question what was happening.

Rhys said nothing, trying to get over the fresh shame. Jack’s voice addressed him. “Now, Rhysie, you’re gonna stay like that until lunch, contemplating your actions here today,” Jack sounded smug. “Not a word from you, okay? Unless it’s a legitimate issue, like you just ruptured an internal organ, got it?”

Rhys...had to stay like this for _three_ hours? He nodded dumbly. “Yes, Jack.” He supposed this was fairly light punishment for what he’d done. He buried his face in his elbow.

Jack chuckled. “You’re gonna be a bit more behind, but I suspect you’ll spend your time more wisely, in the future.” Rhys heard him take a loud sip of his coffee. “And...if you’re wanting more between us, we can discuss that tomorrow.”

Rhys’s breathing stuttered. More? Jack was contemplating it? He tried not to feel excited.

Jack chuckled. “Yeah. You’re definitely not bad looking, baby. Kinda surprised I’ve never considered this before. Shoulda said something, buttercup. I’ve been so busy, with those idiots on Pandora.”

* * *

Rhys thought he was going to die. It had likely only been a few minutes, but he was incredibly bored and uncomfortable. Even shifting wasn’t enough to alleviate the discomfort he was feeling. It wasn’t just the pain of his limbs in odd positions. There was also something decidedly not fun about having one’s ass and dick open to the cool, dry office air for an unusual amount of time. Rhys was kind of chilly too. 

Jack had gotten on his computer and was typing away. He seemed distracted, but Rhys didn’t wish to disobey or interrupt, so he just looked away again. 

Still, in spite of his own silent complaints, he was thrilled this was happening at all. Jack didn’t have a real reason to let Rhys off the hook with his life, let alone imply he might let them have some sexual relations in the future. It had been worth it, all of this.

Rhys followed that thought, picturing himself bent over that huge desk of Jack’s… His cock twitched at the idea. 

As time trickled by, he began to get more and more miserable. He just wanted to _stretch_. He had a crick in his spine that wouldn’t relax, and his limbs were sore. He bit his lip and shifted multiple times. 

Rhys heard Jack’s chair and met Jack’s gaze, which was locked on him. “You uncomfy there, Rhysie?”

“A little, yeah.”

Jack came over to the desk. “I suppose I can take an early lunch, just for you.” He sat down in Rhys’s chair, rolling closer. "I confess I'm having trouble concentrating myself with this tight ass on display."

“What-”

Rhys started when a warm tongue traced his entrance. He shoved knuckles into his mouth to stop his yelp. But his dick grew hard almost instantly. Jack’s wet tongue dipped down, slick over his perineum and balls, before coming back up. Rhys’s legs shook at the feeling. 

“Get your hand out of your mouth and share those pretty noises, babe.”

Rhys complied, shivering. He didn’t waste a moment letting the moans pour from his body. He gripped the edges of the desk to ground himself.

Jack’s firm hand grabbed his dick and bent it back and _fuck,_ Rhys was going to die. A hot mouth engulfed his cock from behind, wet and tight. Rhys whimpered. The tug of the wrong direction and the insistent pull of Jack’s lips was too much and not enough. 

Jack kept going and going, tugging harder on Rhys, sucking and - fuck “Ow!” Rhys hissed. Teeth. Jack was easier the second time. It quickly made up for his previous mishap.

Meanwhile, Jack’s finger - which was wet, somehow- teased into Rhys’s entrance. Not far, but enough Rhys could feel it.

Rhys rocked his hips back.

Jack’s touch vanished.

“Bad boy,” Jack admonished.

“Y-you never said I couldn’t move!” Rhys complained.

“I’ve figured out your weakness, Rhysie. You’re greedy. That’s what got you into this mess in the first place. Be a good boy and I’ll reward you. If you can’t figure out some manners, then that’s on you.”

Rhys felt confused, but he nodded.

Jack went back at it, working Rhys up again. Rhys stayed as still as possible this time. It was not easy. Each pleasurable touch made him want to push back against it, but he forced himself to be good. Rhys couldn’t believe his day had taken this particular turn. It felt so amazing, but it also seemed loaded, as if there was a catch. Right now, he didn’t want to think about that. Just wanted to lose himself in the amazing feeling.

Rhys was getting closer and closer to climax. But Jack stopped again before he could. Rhys was confused. “J-Jack...I...wasn’t I good?”

Rhys looked back at Jack’s gaze, which was an unreadable grin. Just thinking about how that mouth had been pleasuring him.... Rhys’s skin was now hot. Jack said, “you weren’t bad, but we haven’t addressed why you’re really here, have we?”

Rhys kept his mouth shut, because he wasn’t certain what he should say.

Jack’s voice dropped to a growl. “Next time you get thirsty for Jack’s dick, maybe you’ll _ask_ for it. And you’ll ask _nicely_.” He gave a pointed tug on Rhys's cock.

Rhys shuddered. Oh. This was about that...sleep blowjob. “Y...yes, Jack.”

“Why don’t you demonstrate how you’re gonna beg for it next time - without moving, of course. Prove to me you can."

Rhys’s breathing stuttered. His cock throbbed. He needed to cum. “Uh...okay… Please, Jack, please!” He felt strange saying it, but he hoped it was what Jack wanted.

Jack’s glare made him wither. Rhys knew he’d screwed up. “You’re not very convincing, Rhysie. Guess I need to start over.”

“Jack-”

Jack’s hand gave a rough twist of his dick. It hurt! Rhys whimpered at the pain. Jack kept up the pressure though. “Jack- that hurts- what are you-?” Rhys realized the pain was killing his arousal though, and shut his mouth, understanding what was happening. When Rhys’s dick was limp, Jack let up. Rhys sat with tears in his eyes, waiting.

Jack’s tone became firm. “Each time you screw up, we start over, until you _learn_. Got it, babe?”

“Yes, Jack.”

Jack went right back to his previous ministrations. He once again had Rhys’s cock in his mouth, once again was sucking and pulling. Rhys once again was out of his mind with pleasure, and he once again had to fight his own body. Remembering what Jack wanted, he moaned, “pleease, Jack.” It didn’t sound quite right to him.

Jack bit him.

Rhys yelped. He almost gave in to the urge to vacate the desk. Only a reminder of how badly he wanted Jack kept him in place.

“Again,” Jack hissed, going back in violently.

“Ah, ah,” Rhys gasped, eyes rolling. Jack's mouth was on his perineum now, nipping and licking and sucking. His finger sank deeper into Rhys’s entrance. “Oh god, Jack...mmm’sorry please…” Oh. Even he could hear it now. The desperation dripped from his words. Fuck, he needed this so bad. “Jack - I… I will ask nicely every time from now on- Please just. Let me have your cock, _please_. I need it so bad. It’s so big and heavy and perfect and god...I just couldn’t resist but I’ll be good now, I promise. I’ll be good. Jack, please-.”

Jack chuckled, but barely let up. “Yeah, that’s the one. You’re a quick learner, baby. It’s what’s good about ya.” His hand fell flat across Rhys’s ass in a loud crack. It wasn’t painful, but it startled Rhys. He yelped.

Rhys lost his sense of self for a minute, and then came. He cried out. He didn’t exactly pass out from it, but the next thing he knew, he was slumped on the desk like a rag. And Jack was looking quite pleased about it. “Jack?” He blinked.

“You still haven’t quite earned my dick, kiddo, but you're well on your way.” He patted Rhys’s thigh. “Take that work home and finish it tonight, or I can break out a whole new arsenal of incentives for ya, got it?”

“Yes...Jack…” Rhys grunted. God. If only Jack would give him a rest. He began to wonder if he was in for way more than he had bargained for. Damn it. At least he’d have some damn good orgasms for it.


End file.
